


The Unholy Tango of Literature

by dr_whom, longwhitecoats



Category: The Holy Tango of Literature
Genre: Dr Seuss, Edward Lear, Gen, Gilbert and Sullivan, Parody, Poetry, Seamus Heaney - Freeform, Shel Silverstein, WITH APOLOGIES
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 12:18:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15291372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr_whom/pseuds/dr_whom, https://archiveofourown.org/users/longwhitecoats/pseuds/longwhitecoats
Summary: This work is inspired by Francis Heaney'sHoly Tango of Literature, a collection of poetic parodies where the title of each poem is an anagram of the poet's name. (Yes, there's a T.S. Eliot parody called "Toilets.") We've added our own verses to the collection.With apologies to everyone except W. S. Gilbert,Dr. Whom & Longwhitecoats





	The Unholy Tango of Literature

**Vern, He’s Silliest**  
**[Shel Silverstein]**

_Longwhitecoats_

Vern, he’s silliest.  
Jessica, she’s loudest.  
Tamika, she’s sweetest.  
Adrien’s the proudest.

Calliope is liveliest;  
Ysenia, she’s boldest.  
And Eustace is wildest  
(even though he’s oldest).

Me, I’m saddest.  
I’ve always been the bluest.  
But Judy (who is wisest)  
told me what is truest:

Everyone’s the bestest  
at doing what they do.  
And every rainbow needest  
someone to be the blue.

 

**Dress Us**  
**[Dr. Seuss]**

_Dr_Whom and Longwhitecoats_

Could you dress us in a shirt?  
   I would not, could not in a shirt  
   Not in a suit, not in a shirt,  
   Not in a blouse, not in a skirt.  
   Not in a shoe, not in a sock,  
   Not in a coat, not in a smock.  
   Not anything that’s on the shelves.  
   I will not: you must dress yourselves.

Then we will wear our bright red suits!  
And we will wear our kinky boots!  
And we will wear our pearls and lace  
and guest star on _RuPaul’s Drag Race_.  
Yes, on a train, or in a car,  
or on a float, or in a bar,  
we’ll dress up all the livelong day,  
and keep our clothes and spirits gay.

 

**Lead Reward**  
**[Edward Lear]**

_Dr_Whom_

There was a young fellow from Dunning  
Who won a lead medal for running.  
            For he finished the race  
            In the forty-fifth place,  
That nimble young athlete from Dunning!

 

**Shy U.A.E. Seamen**  
**[Seamus Heaney]**

_Longwhitecoats_

_Yallah_. The sailors of distant waters  
and the boats that held them had grace and swiftness.  
They still tell tales of those odysseys.  
      The sub _Al Hasbah_ parted many oceans,  
dawn-treader, pearl of the sea-floors.  
Each helmsman knew her lines well.  
By sonar, she traveled secret roads,  
guest of the night-fish in the deep.  
Years later she docked at Dubai  
and let out all the silent men inside  
to settle in the sand. That ship was yar.

 

**Glib Trews**  
**[W.S. Gilbert]**

_Dr_Whom and Longwhitecoats_

I’m the local village tailor and I make the shirts and blouses  
all the villagers put on within their cottages and houses.  
They may think me ineffectual at pinnings or at hemmings,  
but I’ve got the very thing to make ‘em follow me like lemmings!

When I was an apprentice at the art of haberdashin’,  
my master saw I’d never be the pinnacle of fashion,  
so he granted me a gift that guaranteed I’d never lose:  
he picked his pinking shears up and he made the magic trews!

Though I could have been a soldier or I could have been a sailor,  
still I earn my honest living as the local village tailor.

[Chorus:] Though his stitching is inept and his embroidery’s a failure,  
still he earns an honest living as the local village tailor.

When I wear my magic trousers, then whatever the occasion  
I perform the perfect picture of the power of persuasion.  
At a funeral in Doncaster, I sold a dozen skirts,  
and all the primmest dons of Balliol still wear my crooked shirts.

There’s a duchess down in Cornwall with a horror of batik  
who will buy a silken bustle from me every other week;  
when my mother asked if I would mend her ragged woolen socks,  
I persuaded her to purchase my entire stock of smocks.

When I pin a lady’s dress up, like as not I will impale her—  
still I earn my humble living as the local village tailor.

[Chorus:] Though he could have been a soldier or he could have been a sailor,  
still he earns a humble living as the local village tailor.

Perhaps you’ve heard an inkling of my twinkling reputation,  
for the power of my trousers is renowned throughout the nation.  
And there even is a rumor that it’s reached the Royal Mews—  
so perhaps someday all Buckingham will sing, “God save the Trews!”

As a barrister I’d talk my way past juror, judge, and gaoler,  
but I earn my honest living as the local village tailor.

[Chorus:] Though he could have been a soldier or he could have been a sailor,  
still he earns an honest living—

Well, a _somewhat_ honest living—

[Chorus:]  
still he earns an honest living as the local village tailor!


End file.
